


Last Player Left in the Game

by bratfarrar



Series: Canon (more or less) [17]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratfarrar/pseuds/bratfarrar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is sand in places sand shouldn't be, and the possibility of frozen yogurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Player Left in the Game

**Author's Note:**

> For Flingslass.

“A frozen yogurt machine, huh?” Lorne swings his legs a little, knocking his left heel against the table leg a couple of times before scooting a bit further right.  He’d sit somewhere else, but all the stools and chairs are supporting precarious piles of computer innards. “Guess that explains why the colonel’s been sulking.” Which is not a word he ever thought he’d use in connection with a superior officer. Out loud, at any rate.  
  
“How so?” Zelenka doesn’t look up from Lorne’s laptop, which is currently in more pieces than Lorne’s comfortable with. But the damn thing keeps overheating and automatically shutting down, and the last time it did, Lorne lost half a mission report and next week’s duty roster and almost threw the laptop at the wall.  
  
“McKay told him he wasn’t going to share credit for figuring the thing out.” Did so as the colonel stalked away barefoot, which is an image Lorne will treasure for a very long time.  
  
Zelenka snorts and slots something into place with an audible _schnick_. “I think Rodney would willingly give away all his credit at the moment. He was quite certain that the mechanism was somehow related to recharging ZPMs. Rather insufferably so.”  
  
Lorne spends a moment silently weighing the two against each other: frozen yogurt. Fully-charged ZPM. Frozen yogurt. It’s a lot closer than it would have been a year ago.  
  
“You know he’s going to be Mr. Popular in the mess hall for the next month, don’t you?” he eventually ventures. Zelenka snorts again, but fondly, if that’s possible.  
  
“Yes, and once he realizes that he’ll be even more insufferable. Until then, I’m going to enjoy the rare experience of Rodney McKay trying _not_ to remind people of his brilliance.” He puts down his screwdriver and turns to face Lorne, the laptop in his hands. “All finished. Keep it away from sand in the future, please.”  
  
Sand? As far as Lorne knows, the laptop hasn’t left his office since he first unpacked it. But weird things happen all the time around Atlantis, so he just says “Sure,” and “Thanks,” and heads back to his office. If he does his paperwork fast, maybe he’ll be able to snag himself some frozen yogurt before the afternoon’s batch disappears.


End file.
